


Smile Like You Mean It

by AGoodBean117



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Captivity, Dissociation, Tags May Change, forced drugging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23111626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGoodBean117/pseuds/AGoodBean117
Summary: Scorch, brought from their world to Mobius through a freak Chaos Emerald accident, falls into the notorious Eggman's clutches. Trapped with their life on the line, there's only one thing to do.Smile Like They Mean It.This fic is going to go into dark territory as it goes on. Read the tags, as they will be updated as needed as this fic goes on.I started this so I could have an OC call Eggman a little bitch 'cause he keeps losing to teenagers, and several self-projections later we have a long multichapter.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	1. Light and Night

Scorch sighed, puttering about their chores. They really didn’t need to be doing all of this busywork, but it’s what their internship called for. Sure, it was a bit odd that their internship allowed them to get so close to secret government agencies and documents, given their distinct lack of a security clearance, but they weren’t about to question it. They also weren’t going to question the disappearances of the other interns; they weren’t too good at their jobs, anyways.

Sure, they could always walk out, but they needed the job in order to get other, better jobs. So, fixing small things and doing copious amounts of paperwork it was.

Still, the fact that that blue hedgehog thing kept popping up and messing their work up was frustrating. His name was… Sonic, or sanic, or something. Apparently, the government building they worked in was bad and evil because of how it looked, and they really ought to consider leaving for less evil work…. As if that’s how things worked in the real world.

Which meant that they really ought to get their eyes and their sanity checked, since talking anthropomorphic hedgehogs Do Not Exist.

Whatever. The cabling here wouldn’t fix itself, and if they finished fast enough, they could go home and eat Chinese takeout and finish binging the latest and greatest in Anime.

* * *

“Did you try to get her to leave?”

“Yeah, but she said something about needing to finish first. Like, doesn’t she realize there’s a literal battle going on out here?”

Two figures are perched on a billboard, a pause from the aerial combat happening in this world’s night sky. One, a blue hedgehog; the other, a feminine winged bat-like creature.

“I doubt she can hear it; those buildings are usually pretty sound-proof.”

“I guess… Well, if she stays in there, hopefully she’ll be outside the blast radius.”

“Blast radius?”

“It’s what Tails was calling it. You know, the big bright light that’ll happen when the chaos emeralds send us home? That’s that.”

“I see…”

A rogue laser interrupted their discussion, disintegrating the billboard they’d been perched on.

“Hopefully she stays where she is. If not… Well, I supposed we’ll owe her one.”

“Yeah…” The blue one shot off into the sky, off to join the aerial combat against the mad scientist and the army of robots. The bat looked off towards the base before sighing and joining the combat.

* * *

The wiring took longer than expected, but it was done. Now to just… Go home.

“Thank fucking Christ.” They muttered, climbing to their feet and stretching. “Took long enough. At least I’ll get overtime…” And so, they trudged towards the exit. Towards the clock-out machine, towards their car, towards a weekend of bliss and cheesy romantic anime.

The first large explosion noise barely echoed in the building, but it was enough to be startling.

What… was that? A gas explosion? The Russians, finally trying to start World War Three? A lockdown, thus making them Trapped until such time as they could leave?

They’re hearing things. Probably.

….

..

.

Okay, that was a second explosion. So, uh, better run fast and get the hell out of there!

* * *

The bat-woman pauses in the fight, flying out of range for a moment to catch her breath. Truly, this fight wasn’t progressing fast enough. Sure, everyone was mowing down plenty of robots, but the scientist had made far more robots than anticipated.

With a soft sigh, she readied herself to re-enter the fight.

“We won’t lose.” Whether a statement of truth or trying to convince herself, the bat-creature flies back into the combat, taking out more of the robots.

She won’t lose.

But, an off-hand glance towards the building down below clearly has her worried.

After all, what will happen to the human?

* * *

Locker open, backpack obtained, coat put on, it’s time to clock out and get the hell out.

There were more explosions than they had initially thought; realistically, they ought to stay inside and let this one blow over.

But, they’d rather be at home. And, given the select secrecy of the base, they’d like to leave before the explosion triggered the lockdown. After all, they weren’t authorized to be there during lockdowns. The drones would probably shoot them on-sight.

… This doesn’t need to be a horror movie set, so they really ought to move quickly! A shame they never bothered to learn teleportation spells; they were too challenging at the time, but that’s a Big Regret now.

And, with a sigh, they clock out.

They make their way to the exit, dreading the darkness. Sure, you could see the stars for miles, but the explosions didn’t bode well for them. Still, they walk out to the parking lot.

And stare at the robotic combat happening over their head.

…

..

.

Yeah, okay, best to head home before some shrapnel or something kills them. Probably a drone strike test against some AI, but there aren’t any obvious drones. And there is screaming. Also, a plane and a weird, floaty… thing.

Weird.

And with that, Scorch picks their way towards their car; they’ll be safer inside it, but not by much.

* * *

“Hey Sonic, look!” A pink hedgehog points towards the ground. “Looks like that human is finally leaving!”

“Really?” The blue one, Sonic, looks over. “Well, that’s good.”

And with that, Sonic starts the preparations to send them all home.

* * *

Their car won’t start!! And there’s no one around to help them start the car, either. Since, y’know, that’d be too easy. Too much good luck for one day, that’s for sure. Might as well park it and watch the fancy government fireworks.

* * *

“Sonic!” Sonic pauses, missing his chance to throw a chunk of robot at Eggman.

“What is it, Rogue?” The bat, Rogue, fluttered near Sonic to share the news.

“The human’s not leaving. Looks like her car won’t start.” A glance confirmed the statement. Damnit!

“Well, I can’t stop now!” It was true; Eggman’s control panel was throwing sparks. It would detonate if all of them didn’t trigger the warp in time.

“… Looks like we owe that human, then.”

“Agreed.”

And with that, the whole group—Tails, Amy, Knuckles, and all the others—close in for the kill.

* * *

Looks like the drone strike will end soon.

Scorch hops out of their car, damage be damned, and flops atop it’s hood. Their trusty backpack in hand, they watch the fireworks.

“You’d think they’d test drones somewhere out of the way…” The wind answers them, sharing no useful information.

“It’s just my luck; dead car, probably going to get yelled at by security in the morning…” They yawn, rubbing at an eye. “Maybe they’ll take pity on me, but I doubt it. Assholes.” They stare skyward, watching the fight as it’s sole spectator. Cheering on the non-robot side, if only for some variety.

And then, the Big Explosion.

It bathes the world in white, blinding them. If they were religious, they’d be praying; a flash that bright could really only mean lethal amounts of radiation, and yet—

The brightness clears from their eyes, blinked away from a body that was still alive. The sky was different, here; different constillations, different clouds, no clouds of explosive debris—

They aren’t… Home, anymore.

Where in the fresh hell _are_ they?


	2. Garden

As far as they can tell, they’re in a forest.

On top of their car, mind you, but in a forest nonetheless.

At night.

Where there could be wolves, or alien wolves, or—

Yeah, okay, it’s Scorch Get In Car Time.

Might as well sleep until it’s daytime, anyways.

…

..

.

After locking themself in their car, Scorch casts a quick spell to make sure they aren’t damaged.

And… it’s negative. No damage.

Good. Great. In an alien world or whatever where they aren’t supposed to be, teleported with their car, with no rhyme or reason to it. And there’s no broken robot pieces anywhere, so they don’t even know if they’re where the government is going to be collecting those parts for damages.

So… Nap time. Might as well sleep until they can properly take in their surroundings. Besides, they have everything that they need for… basic survival. On Earth.

This was some Karmic Justice or something, wasn’t it?

* * *

The day greeted Scorch the best way it could: by the sounds of birds being so annoying that sleep could no longer reclaim them.

Then again, this world had birds. It couldn’t be _that_ different from Earth.

Still, since hiking was going to be necessary for, you know, food and water and stuff, it was probably time to swap from Work Clothes to their usual gear. Wimpy work shoes were swapped with their favorite, well-worn pair of steel-toed boots, skirt was swapped with emergency jeans, light and airy blouse swapped out for a black t-shirt and a leather jacket. They were ready! All their work clothes were tucked back into their bottomless backpack. Perks of being not entirely useless with magic is Infinite Storage!

They left their car, backpack over their shoulder, and looked all around them. The trees towered overhead, easily taller than the trees back on Earth. The shrubbery came to mid-chest height, and it looked like there were some fruits and berries growing on some of them. They’d ended up in a small clearing, the car parked squarely in the middle.

So, now they just had to… Pick a direction, and go. From what they could hear, there likely wasn’t a stream nearby.

“Okay…” Scorch’s voice echoes in the clearing, just barely audible over the birds. “Where do I go?”

In front of them seemed as good a starting point as any. Plus, they had some water in their bag, so they’d be alright for a while.

And so, after locking their car (with what little good THAT would do), they head off in that direction. If they’re lucky, they’ll reach something resembling civilization.

Or, you know, whatever qualifies as civilization in this world.

Walking is Boring.

They’ve been walking for So Long, they’ve forgotten what Not Walking feels like. Ignore the fact that it can’t have been more than an hour or two of walking at most, that’s not important.

But!!! The edge of the thick-ass forest is close.

Hopefully.

After another half an hour of walking, Sorch finally reached the edge of the forest. In front of them was the largest field of wildflowers that they have ever seen, even in photographs. The sunlight filtered through the clouds, highlighting certain patches of flowers in its warm glow. A tree sat in the center of the field had a rope swing attached, clearly old and well-worn from years of children’s laughter ad use.

The view was, to put it bluntly, breathtaking.

One step, then two, then to a jog and then a run, Scorch bolted through the flowers with a childish glee.

“Beautiful,” They spoke, picking a flower to tuck behind their ear. “Absolutely beautiful.”

It didn’t take long to reach the tree, the swing. They claimed the swing, using it while they soaked in the gorgeous landscape.

While the swing suggested a nearby town, they couldn’t see one. Maybe the town was hidden by the trees that lined the field, but they weren’t certain.

It was relaxing, though. More relaxing than Friday Night Anime had been back home.

They dozed, staring off into the field of flowers. It was just… So pretty. If they were able to, building a little cottage on the edge of this flower-filled landscape would be the dream…

Then, something changed.

Something moved, on the far edge of the flowers.

Something… Red.

It made its way towards them, picking its way through the flower field as if harming a single petal would be a cruelty. And, while it would be devastating to the overall view, flowers could re-grow.

It made it’s way closer and closer; as it did, Scorch could pick up on more details.

It was… animal-like. Anthropomorphic, like that blue hedgehog from last night. This one wasn’t a hedgehog, though—they couldn’t place what, exactly, the red thing was. While the majority of its body was red, it wore white gloves with two thorn-like protrusions from each hand.

Once it was a few yards away, it stopped. Confusion was evident—there weren’t supposed to be humans here, after all!

“What are you doing here?” The voice made them jump—seems the red thing could talk! And wow, it had a deeper voice than initially expected.

Maybe it could help them out?

“In this field, or in this world?” It tilted its head, thinking.

“Both.”

“Well then…” They kicked off, swinging decently high for such a small swing. They had nothing to lose by telling him—or, at least, they assumed it was a him—so they began to speak.

“I’m not sure how I got here. I was in my world, then there was a bright flash, and then I was here. Well, two-ish hours behind me, but still. As for this field, I walked here from my car.” Backwards and forwards, gaining no extra height yet not slowing down. Equilibrium.

“I see… So this is Sonic’s fault, then.” He sighed, a hand going to massage the spot between its eyes. Guess Sonic’s a bit of a dick, then?

“Sonic? Is that that blue hedgehog guy?” He blinked, then sighed again. Guess this guy never gets a break from Sonic’s shenanigans…

“That would be him. Didn’t he get you out of the blast radius?”

“He told me to leave, but my car wouldn’t start. He didn’t say anything about any blast radius, otherwise I’d have dropped everything and left.” Really, Sonic should have brought that up. Valuable information when deciding when to leave, after all.

“I can believe it.”

Silence echoed in the field, but not an awkward one. Scorch slowed their swinging, instead really taking the other in. Red fur with color-matching quills, violet eyes, thorns for fists…

What a strange creature.

Their swinging came to a halt, decision made.

“My name’s Scorch. What’s yours?” He seemed surprised, even more so when they offered him a smile.

“Knuckles. I’m Knuckles the Echidna.” Knuckles offered them a smile in return, then gestured backwards, towards the direction he came from.

“How about I bring you to Sonic? He ought to be able to send you home, even if it might take some time.”

“I’d appreciate that.” He offers them his hand.

They take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my fic!
> 
> I'm working really hard on this, so I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Again, shout-out to the guys on the Sonic server for helping me make sure I wrote Knuckles properly!


	3. Arrival

Knuckles held their hand as they picked their way through the flowers, again being careful not to step on any (Well, Scorch did their best; combat boots weren’t really made to be delicate with plants!), and into a thin patch of woods.

The other side of the wooded patch hid a small town, one hustling and bustling with other, different anthropomorphic individuals. Several rabbit-people, a frog person, and other animalian people walked through the streets as if this were normal. It was odd, that they were the odd one out, but no-one gave them more than a confused look. And, hell, even that seemed to stem from the fact that Knuckles was holding your hand.

Guess Knuckles was usually not this touchy-feely. Then again, being the exception left them feeling just a bit flattered. Then again Knuckles may also be assuming, falsely so, that they’re young. They aren’t, but best to ask rather than assume.

Oddly enough, there weren’t any other hedgehog-people around.

“Hey, Knuckles?”

“Hmm?” He looks up at them, again offering a kind smile.

“Where… is this place?”

“This place, or the planet?” He lets out a soft laugh at that; to be fair, they had said something similar earlier.

“Both, preferably.”

“The planet is called Mobius. The place we’re at right now is the Mystic Ruins’ archeology station. It’s pretty close to the ruins, which is good. That’ll be where Sonic and Tails are, by the way.”

“Tails?”

“Sonic’s fox friend slash best friend slash little brother. Honestly, if anyone can get you home, it’ll be Tails. Well, maybe Eggman, but that’s a pretty big stretch.”

“… Won’t Sonic help him? Also, who’s Eggman?”

“If he needs anything gathered or collected, yeah. Not much else, though. Sonic… Well, he usually means well.” Ah. Sonic was one of those kinds of people, then.

“Eggman,” Knuckles continues, leading the way out the other side of the station and back into the woods. “Is a mad scientist of sorts. He makes robots and tries to take over the world. He keeps trying to steal the Chaos Emeralds to do it, although no-one knows where they are right now.”

“What’s a Chaos Emerald?”

“The Chaos Emeralds are… a source of magical power. Think of them as giant magical batteries, no bigger than your fist.” Scorch nods, balling one of their hands into a fist as they do so. These Emeralds aren’t that large, are they?

“So, this Eggman guy wants your magic batteries to power his robots to take over the world?”

“Yeah. He’s shockingly good at getting most of them before Sonic and the others go take them back. For themselves, and not putting them where they belong.”

“I guess that makes sense. Though, why does Sonic keep the emeralds?”

“He’s selfish. He wants to use them for his own personal gain and for power. Also, in case Eggman finds some of them.”

“Mhmm.” That… probably wasn’t how Sonic saw things. Then again, most people didn’t want to see their personal negative traits.

To be fair, though, it’s their own fault that they’re on another world to begin with. So, maybe they’re more like that than they’d previously thought.

* * *

It took a good twenty minutes to reach what Scorch assumed were the Mystic Ruins. There was a monorail line that led up to the ruins, a train just departing off to wherever it was headed to. The ruins were large and sprawling; in fact, they looked an awful lot like Earth’s Mesopotamian ruins, if Ancient Mesopotamia had had larger cities and slightly better construction work. After a second thought, perhaps they looked more Aztec-ian in nature. Moss covered the steps, slowly growing over the ruins; trees were trying to grow through the cobblestone streets where weeds and bushes had already succeeded.

It would have been a magical place, if the sight of it hadn’t made Knuckles look so… sad.

“You alright?”

“I—uh—yes. I’m fine.” Knuckles, clearly not fine, led the way into the ruins. To where, Scorch did not know, but he did seem to know where he was going.

“… If you say so.”

…

..

.

They walk though ancient archways, down long lanes overgrown with moss. Their footfalls make no sound, save for the occasional cobble that has yet to be consumed in the mossy sea. The silence echoes, swirls around them, a hungry beast starved for sound.

But neither will give in. Not because they do not want to, but because they do not know how.

Soon, the silence is broken by echoing clangs and bangs. The sounds of Tails’ workshop, of a fox who happens to be hard at work.

“We’re close.” Scorch nods, ears trying and failing to find a source for the noise. Though, their hearing hadn’t been the greatest from the get-go.

“So, I guess Tails is there. Do you know if anyone else is supposed to be there?” The duo approached an intersection; the sounds were coming from the left, yet Knuckles went straight ahead. There was… probably some magic reason for that, though it might be a physics reason for it as well.

“As far as I’m aware, no. Then again, Rogue and Sonic were talking mid-fight; they may have called an emergency meeting for everyone, anyways.”

“I see… Who’s Rogue?”

“She’s a bat and a spy. Very sneaky, but also reliable in an odd sort of way.”

“O… kay, then?” A bat AND a spy? Well, if the bat-people here worked the same way bats did on Earth, then that really shouldn’t be possible. Bats have poor eyesight, after all!!!

Wait, maybe she has glasses?

A mystery to be solved another day, for sure.

Or, rather, in like 5 minutes, as now there’s a big old door that Knuckles has parked the two of them in front of.

“We’re here.” He lets go of their hand, startled—had he forgotten he was holding it?

“Awesome. So, uh, these doors are huge. Do we knock, or are they just gonna open, or—” Knuckles pads over to the doors and hauls one open. They’re big and heavy; how, exactly, is a regular person supposed to get them open???

“After you.” He gestures to the opening, door clearly straining the Echindan—Echidian???—muscles.

After a moment of hesitation, Scorch ducks in.

The light from the outside is cut off as Knuckles slips in after them; it takes several second of blinking for Scorch to even begin to make things out in the dark space.

“So, where do we go?” They whisper, the silence in the room far too loud for them.

“This way.” They follow as Knuckles leads the way out of the darkened space and into a better-lit spot. It looked to be some sort of small kitchen, but with tools and scrap metal stacked in corners and in boxes.

In this room was a pink animal, one they’d be willing to bet was either a hedgehog or an echidna (their money is on hedgehog, though). It was in a red thigh-high dress with a matching headband, and was leaning on a large, red hammer.

It did not seem pleased.

“Welcome back, Knuckles.” It spoke, voice light and falsely cheerful. “We were just about to send a search party out to find that human, yet here you are with her!”

“Uh… thanks?” … Did he not realize just how displeased the pink one was? And, wait, did she just call them ‘she’?

“Y’know, I was hoping I’d find her. Make Sonic really like me, since I’d get to do the saving for once~” And now, she’s… not mad anymore? They stared, watched as the pink one’s eyes turned into little hearts. “Oh, you know, he’s so dreamy~”

Oh.

Yeah, okay, she’s like… twelve, or something. Only logical explanation.

“… Sure thing, Amy. This,” Knuckles gestures to them; Scorch waves as he does so. “Is Scorch. Have you guys started figuring out how to send her home yet?”

“Well… Tails has. The rest of us were going to go look, but I guess we don’t have to now.” A pout takes its place on Amy’s face with the release of a sigh. She turns on her heel, hammer lifted with frightening ease to rest on her shoulder and leads the way into yet another room.

“You two coming?” She calls over her shoulder. “We gotta introduce you to the others.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> If you liked this chapter, feel free to drop a comment and let me know! I'd love to hear what you guys have to say :3
> 
> Again, shoutouts to the Sonic Discord for being 10/10 Good Beans and just being hella supportive. Love you guys!
> 
> And, if you want to look at the Youtube Playlist for this fic, click [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXSSMKf5cO_FcfNLRY8ynnK8F22W_s_dG)!!!


	4. Blame It On The Kids

The new room is a large, open space with several work desks. Based on what little they know of Tails, they’d expect machine ideas to have been on each one; now, though, they’d been pushed together to make a large table with a map atop it. Looks like the group had all actually been serious about finding them.

That was… surprisingly touching, to say the least.

Ignoring themselves, Amy, and Knuckles, there were several individuals in the room. Sonic, the blue hedgehog, offered Scorch a lazy wave from his perch in a windowsill, while the others in the room seemed to stiffen up in surprise. There was a red and black hedgehog that looked similar to Sonic. It seemed to radiate disapproval over the whole situation, as if the whole thing was their fault. Which, really, it kind-of was. It was leaning on the wall next to Sonic, though that was probably because the room didn’t have any chairs. There was a yellow fox-looking creature which could really only be Tails, given the dual tails, who was hunched over a portion of the map. Tails seemed to be on-edge, if the droopiness of the tails and the bags under the eyes were any indication. A feminine bat-like creature, most likely Rouge, was perched on the edge of the makeshift table, eyeing them up like they were a candy to be unwrapped. But, hey, no glasses.

Rouge would probably look cute in glasses, though.

The last person in the room was a cat-girl, though not the kinds they were used to seeing in anime. It would be more apt to call her an anthropomorphic cat than a cat-girl, seeing as she was more cat than human. She was tucked in the corner of the room, a silent observer to the whole ordeal.

“Everyone, this is Scorch. That human that we accidentally brought back with us.” Amy spoke, gesturing with their hammer.

“Hi…” Scorch offers the group a smile; all the eyes on them was… viscerally uncomfortable. Especially since they were entirely dependent on these people if they had a prayer of getting home.

“This is Sonic, Tails, Shadow, Blaze, and Rogue.” Amy introduces each of the individuals in the room; they all nod as each of them is introduced.

“So, you’re the human that didn’t have the sense to leave?” Shadow, the black and red hedgehog, pushes himself off the wall as he speaks. “Did the aerial battle not clue you in?”

“Shadow! Be _nice_!” Blaze scolded, arms crossing over her chest. “I’m sure there’s a good reason for this.”

“Doubtful. After all, _Sonic_ told them to leave.”

Deep breath, Scorch, deep breath. These people are the ticket home, after all.

Calm down, for the love of god.

“That is true, is it not?” Rouge piped up, looking Scorch dead in the eyes. “Sonic did tell you to leave. So why is it that you did not?”

Every eye in the room stared at them with seemingly thinly veiled distaste. Except for Shadow, who didn’t bother hiding it.

Yeah, this was their fault. Except…

“Sonic didn’t bother to share why I had to leave. Y’all understand that without a reason to leave, most folks would assume they were finally going insane if a blue talking animal suddenly appeared out of nowhere, yes?”

Sonic stiffened up, his own glare now intensifying. The others, however, seemed surprised.

“I told you to get out—”

“And made me question my 4th red bull of that day, question my sanity and possible safety on the road, and did not share that there was _a large-scale fight going on in the sky where the falling shrapnel could have killed me_. So, yeah, A-plus job there, clearly only my fault.”

From the corner of their eye, they notice Amy shift her stance and her grip on her hammer. Blaze shifted as well, her eyes narrowing.

“What’s a red bull?” Knuckles stage-whispered, tapping their shoulder.

“It’s an energy drink containing 111 milligrams of caffeine per can, which is already more than one human of my size and height should be taking.”

“I see.” It seems that Knuckles was, perhaps, the only one in the room not surprised by the whole situation.

Then again, they had basically had the same conversation with him on the way here. So.

“I see.” Rouge nodded, lips turning up in amusement. “How curious…”

“How dare you…” Amy’s anger had gotten the best of her. Her head was down, but her hammer was poised to swing. Scorch had no doubts as to their chances of survival if they were hit by that. “How _dare_ you blame Sonic for this!” Her charge was halted not by Knuckles, who had moved to defend you from the blow, but by Blaze. Blaze, who had cleared the distance between herself and Amy in the blink of an eye, who now had a paw—hand?—on Amy’s hammer.

“Calm down, Amy.” Amy’s head jerked up, icy cold glare met by… well, they couldn’t see Blaze’s face, but they assumed something calm. “I do not like it either, but Scorch is correct.”

They held still for a moment, a battle of wills between cat and hedgehog. Amy, sighing, takes a step back and places her hammer on the ground.

“ _Fine_. But I don’t like it, and I don’t like _her_.” She points at them with a glare so pointed it could kill.

“… I’m not a girl, but alright.” They shrug, bottling their anger up on the inside. They ignore the odd looks the others were giving them, and instead started to think.

Something about the whole situation seemed… off. An adult wouldn’t act like this, so…

Oh.

 _Oh_.

“This might seem rude, but… how old are you all?”

“16.” Knuckles was the first to reply, clearly confused.

“12.” “14.” Amy and Blaze were next, each equally perplexed by the question.

“Technically 50-ish years old, but physically 15.” … Confusing, but alright. Maybe Shadow’d had an avatar sealed-in-ice thing going on?

“18.” Rouge, the only adult, offered them a wink. Well, Shadow could technically count, but they were going to write that off as a fluke.

“8!” Tails, the youngest of them all, piped up from his exhaustion. The poor thing was actively falling asleep while standing up!

“I’m 15. Why?” Last but not least, Sonic answered the question.

Yeah. Okay. This was fine, they were okay. It wasn’t like their survival and eventual return home was dependent on an eight-year-old or anything!!!

This could work out!

“… No reason. Just curious, is all.”

“I don’t believe you.” Amy spat out, her temporarily banished rage back in full force. “You think we’re stupid, or something!”

“Dear, I don’t think that’s—"

“If I thought that, I’d have said so already.” They interrupt Rouge, their tired eyes meeting Amy’s vengeful ones. They just… have to keep their emotions to themselves. Because everyone, save Rouge, was a _fucking child_.

“Oh, really? Then why’d you ask how old we are, huh?”

“A hunch.”

“Hunch, huh? And what did that little hunch tell you?” She looked smug, like she thought she had won, somehow.

“That you’re all children, Rouge excluded.” And there it was.

Amy stood still, a mix of emotions flitting through her face before settling on blunt confusion.

“What does _that_ have to do with anything?”

“What they mean, darling,” Rouge speaks, uninterrupted this time. “Is that you’re all a tad young to be fighting Eggman every half a year or so.”

“But we keep winning!” Sonic pipes up, finally hopping down from his windowsill to pace. “So, it shouldn’t matter!”

“But it does. After all, most of the adults think you all should get to grow up without dealing with that. It seems that Scorch is no exception.” And Rogue has hit the nail on the head with that one. They make a mental note to not cross her, if at all possible; she seemed like the kind of person they could get along with, once all of this bullshit wrapped up.

“But we keep winning, though. Isn’t that enough for everyone?”

“I’m fairly certain that everyone would rather you all stay safe. Fighting an aerial battle against a bunch of robots and a madman isn’t safe.” They speak again, sighing as they do so. “Does this world not have public schools? Most of y’all should be getting an education.”

“There’s _public_ schools where you came from? And they’re free?” That had caught Tails’ attention; looks like the little guy was just… desperate to eat up all the knowledge he could get his hands on.

“Up until you turn 18, yeah. After that there’s college, which you have to pay for.” It made them sad, really. This world was truly squandering its youth if there were no schools. Defeating Eggman would probably be easier if there was.

“I don’t think it matters. We keep saving this world, and that’s what’s important!” Amy snapped—truly snapped, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing—and picked her hammer back up again. “You think our age matters, but it doesn’t! We save the world, and we saved _your_ world, and I think you’re being rude about it!”

“Amy, calm down—” Knuckles was back at your defense, but that hammer was sure to break several of his bones—

“I will _not_ calm down! They’ve been nothing but rude, and—” Amy approached, Blaze stepping to the side—

“I think she may have a point—” Blaze interrupted, only to start doing some sort of minor fire magic shit, guess she has a short temper too—

“—I won’t be insulted by—”

“Enough, you two, you could hurt them—” Rouge left her perch, moving to join Knuckles as your defense—

“—the likes of YOU!” Her hammer moved; time slowed to a crawl.

Slowly, the hammer inched towards you. Knuckles, bless his heart, was trying; it’d hut you through him. And, as much as you were loathe to admit it, his spines impaling you would hurt more than just the hammer.

Slowly, the hammer inched ever closer. Rouge wouldn’t make it, either—she was fast, but not fast enough. Her mouth was open, likely to yell at Amy to stop, and didn’t she know how fragile a human was?

Time slowed further.

And then, Sonic and Shadow shared a look. A whole conversation, in one look. It was comical; they were moving at a normal speed while the world was slow. Guess they were the fast ones?

Shadow was next to Scorch, suddenly. He picked them up, moved them out of harm’s way.

And then, time was back to normal again.

Amy’s hammer swung harmlessly through the air, Knuckles rescued from hit hammered fate by Sonic. Shadow was still touching them, though they couldn’t find it in them to care much. She let out a scream, turned on her heel, and glared daggers at Shadow.

Amy had meant for that blow to kill.

“… I think I ought to leave y’all alone for now.” They nod their head towards Amy, whose glare had shifted back to them.

“… You might be right.” Shadow agreed, Rouge nodding as well. Shadow let go of them; they took the opportunity to back up towards the exit.

“Knuckles knows where my car is; I’m headed back that way, if any of you need me.”

“Can do. Sorry about all this.” Shadow… apologized?

Seems he felt bad for initially assuming they were the problem.

“’s alright.” And with that, they left the room, ducking out the way they came. The door was as hard to open as they thought, but they managed.

And back out to the Mystic Ruins.

And to the edge of the Mystic Ruins.

No-one noticed the small, ladybug-sized drone that followed Scorch out of the workshop. Hell, no-one had noticed it enter, perched precariously on one Knuckle’s quills.

But it followed them, nonetheless. Perched itself on the strap of their backpack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have gotten some ages slightly off, but oh well! If you liked this, please consider dropping a comment since it lets me know you enjoyed it :D
> 
> Next Up: Scorch Meets Eggman! Should be interesting, but who knows what will happen (I do ;P)!!!
> 
> Shoutout to the Sonic Discord for being Cool Beans!
> 
> Youtube Playlist for this fic is [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXSSMKf5cO_FcfNLRY8ynnK8F22W_s_dG)!!!


	5. Precious Little

Scorch followed the path that Knuckles had initially led them down, picking their way through the mossy cobblestones of the ruins. Now that they were gone, they could vent their anger; no use screaming at children over what was an honest mistake.

An honest mistake that took them out of their world and into this world, but still!

“Fucking Christ…” They mutter, running a hand through their cropped hair. “They’re just kids…”

They kick small stones and pebbles as they go. It doesn’t do much for the anger, but it helps a little.

Eventually, they reach the edge of the Ruins. They don’t have to walk far until they reach the archeological site, but they feel as though they need to pick up their pace.

It’s probably the vengeful spirit of Amy pushing them forward, but still.

Another sigh, but this time their shoulders sag down. Everything is heavy, hard to handle.

This new world was just as exhausting as their last one.

They start picking their way through the woods, mechanically and dutifully following the path they’d taken with Knuckles earlier.

Maybe things would feel less shit once they made it to their car.

Probably not, though.

Maybe they’d find a water source this time; not like they had any of this world’s currency or anything.

Shit, maybe they could take an odd job at the archeological site? Earn some fast cash, since money Is A Thing That Is A Concern?

Something to ask around about, for sure.

Soft crying noises interrupts their thoughts a good ten minutes into their woodland hike.

… Yeah, they’re gonna go investigate.

Off to the left they go, the crying noises getting louder as they get closer. What on Earth—mobius, they’re not on Earth anymore—was it?

They set foot into a small clearing, looking everywhere for the source of the crying. They were close, they _knew_ they were close, so where was—

Oh.

There was a small rabbit-person, crouched in the center of the clearing. _This_ was where the crying had been coming from.

Based on how the crying sounded, they’d peg the rabbit at about six or seven, but no older than ten; only children and distraught adults could cry like that, and something on the inside told them the rabbit was too small to be an adult.

“Hey, you alright?” They call out, all traces of anger vanished in the face of the crying rabbit. It lifted its head, tears streaming down it’s furry cheeks, and it shook its head no.

“You lost?” It nodded its head, slowly climbing to its feet. It was holding some sort of blue and yellow plushie, though they would be hard-placed to say what, exactly, it was.

“Here, I can take you to the archeological site. I know how to get there, and there’ll be adults there who can help you find your folks. Is that alright?”

“Y-yeah. I was trying to find Sonic, though…” the bunny spoke, voice quiet and soft. “He’s with Tails right now, though.”

“I see. And, did your folks know you were trying to get to Sonic?” A small, embarrassed headshake of no answered that one.

“I see. If I take you to the Mystic Ruins, do you think you could find Sonic from there?” Another headshake of no.

“Then, there we go. My name’s Scorch; what’s yours?”

“I’m Cream, and this is Cheese.” The stuffed animal that was apparently _not_ a stuffed animal waved from its home in Cream’s arms.

“Nice to meet you two.” Scorch offers the duo a smile; after a moment, Cream offers them a shaky smile back.

“My mom is at the archeological site. They’re doing something today, so she offered to cook for them.” Cream picked her way over to Scorch, taking their hand with a soft smile, tears mostly forgotten in the face of a responsible adult. “I’m sure she’ll let you have some, if you’d like.”

“Sounds good to me!”

They lead the way, out of the clearing and back to the path they knew.

Cream, bless her tiny heart, was a chatterbox. She asked about anything and everything and offered answers to any and all questions. Thus far, they have learned the following: Cream is a whopping six years old, Cheese is something called a Chao, the currency of this world was called a Mobium (and one mobium could be assumed to be one Earth dollar), that Sonic had saved this world easily over a dozen times, and that Sonic was Cream’s favorite of the whole gang if you didn’t count Blaze or Rogue. They had shared plenty with Cream, like the fact that they came from a different world and needed Sonic’s help to get home and the fact that, at present, Knuckles or Shadow got your high points under the same criterion (IE, ignore Blaze and Rogue), but had kept some other stuff close to heart. Like the fact that they had basically insulted Sonic and the gang for being children, Cream really didn’t need to know that.

Of course, asking a six-year-old what a Chao was didn’t get them much. Cream had simply called them good friends and very kind. Cheese had… nodded, they think, at that as well. So, it could hear, but it… probably couldn’t speak?

“Here we are!” The trio breach the trees, finally at the archeological site.

“Yay!”

“Cream! Cheese!” A taller rabbit-person ran over, a worried face shifting to something resembling relief.

“Mom!” Cream let go of their hand and darted over to her mother, hugging her tight.

“Oh, Cream, I was so worried!” Cream’s mother hugged her child back, scooping her up in the air to squeeze extra tight.

“I’m okay, mom! Scorch helped me get back!” With this, Cream’s mother looked up from her child to meet their eyes.

“It was no problem; I was headed this way anyways.” Okay, Cream’s mom, no need to look at them like they’re the next Jesus Christ Incarnate, ready to save All The Children. Please, helping a six-year-old isn’t hard, it was the least they could do!

Vanilla makes her way over to them, Cream in tow. Let the Mama Bear—er, rabbit—thank-ening begin!

“Still, thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t found her! She means well, really, but she’s curious. Just like her father.”

“Mooooooom!” Cream puffs out her cheeks to pout, but she doesn’t mean it if the little blush means anything at all.

“It’s no problem at all, really.” They run a hand through their hair, trying and failing to assure Mama Rabbit that really, they’re fine, and could she please stop lavishing them in praise?

“My name is Vanilla.” Vanilla stands in front of them properly, shifting Cream in her arms to offer Scorch a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I—uh—" Error 404: Scorch.exe has stopped functioning.

Stop complementing them, damnit! They aren’t that good! They swear!

They take the offered hand, shaking it gently.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m glad I was able to help.”

“Mama, do you have any lunch left over?” Cream piped up, gently tapping Vanilla on the cheek.

“Why, yes, I do; the event hasn’t started yet, after all. Would you like to join us? There’s plenty for everyone!” Vanilla looked them in the eyes, clearly pleading to be able to offer this.

And, well.

Scorch is a college student, so…

Or, was, since they’re here now. Still!

“I’d love to.”

Vanilla led the way, Cream and Cheese in tow, to the largest building on the site. Ducking inside, it was clear that this was a meeting hall—with food lined up on the side tables, ready to go!

“Once people start coming in, feel free to grab a bite to eat. And Cream?”

“Yes, mama?”

“Don’t leave the building this time, please.”

“Okay!” And with that, Cream and Cheese scampered off—it seemed they knew the layout of the building pretty well, since they started playing in a side room that Scorch would have missed if they hadn’t seen the duo run in there.

Once the children left, it left only Vanilla and Scorch.

Vanilla claimed one of the hall’s seats, patting to the one next to her for Scorch. And, after a moment of hesitation, they took it.

“I wanted to properly thank you for helping Cream.” Vanilla spoke, voice softer but sterner than it had been before. “She can be so sure of herself, but gets caught in Eggman’s schemes every once in a while.”

“I see. Then, I’m glad I was able to help her—from what I’ve heard, he doesn’t have the best track record.” She raised an eyebrow at that—apparently, Eggman was a well-known guy in this world?

“Now, I know that Cream likely offered you a meal for helping her. That being said, I’d like you to know that, should you need it, my help is available.”

“I—thank you, ma’am. I really appreciate it.” Scorch nods, affirming the statement.

“Good!” Vanilla perked up, as if her worries had been lifted. “Now, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure thing.”

“You’re not from this world, are you?” Well… They weren’t going to lie to her. She seemed nice enough.

“No, ma’am. According to Sonic and his friends, my being here is an accident.” Vanilla hummed, her eyes sliding shut in thought.

“Well, it was bound to happen eventually. You must feel so lost!” Scorch can only nod at that one—they’d never thought there could be a world of, well, talking animals. But, they’re here now!

“any questions you have, bring them to me. Cream, Sonic, and the others mean well, but…” They saw what she was trying to tip-toe around; might as well voice it.

“They’re all kids.”

“Exactly! They most certainly won’t be able to answer all of your questions, let alone give you accurate information regarding how dangerous Eggman is to you and I.”

“And… just how dangerous is Eggman?”

“Well… The last time he had a scheme that didn’t involve taking over the world, he was turning Mobians into robots.” Vanilla shuddered; it must have been pretty bad, then. “Cream was just a baby when that happened, and I’d just lost my husband; Eggman has, thankfully, stuck with his taking-over-the-world shtick since then.”

“I see…” So, unlike Sonic and Co, who accidentally caused harm, Eggman did so purposefully.

Good to know, good to know.

“You don’t have anywhere to spend the night, do you?” And that pulled their thoughts away from Eggman. Vanilla was right, again, but she didn’t have to call them out on it!

“Not anywhere close, no. I’ve got my car, which is… not big enough for anything resembling a long-term stay.”

“Would you like to stay with Cream and I?”

“I-I wouldn’t want to intrude—”

“It won’t be intruding, not at all! I insist; you did save my daughter, after all!”

“I-I…”

They… Do they deserve this?

Probably not.

“Can I think on that? I do appreciate the offer, I just… need to get a better grasp on my bearings, is all.”

“Of course, darling! Take all the time you need; my home is open for you, should you need it.” Vanilla smiled wide; a kind, motherly smile, one only ever seen from truly good mothers and mom-friends.

And with that, the event starts; the archeologists from outside start trickling in, all offering happy smiles to the two of them and happier still smiles at the sounds of Cream and Cheese playing in the side room.

They guess everyone on this planet was kind. Except, apparently, Eggman.

Oh, well.

A few hours later, and the crowds had cleared. Scorch, Vanilla, and Cream had all managed to eat enough of the food to feel full, as did all the others who attended the talk. They had the sneaking suspicion that the talk would have been far more interesting if they had an iota of a clue about archeology, or what the folks here were digging up, in general.

Still, though, it had been fun. And, as Vanilla gathered up all the leftovers, she’d thrust an extra plate heaping with leftovers into their hand. For the road, she’d said, smiling a smile that truly left no room for argument.

So now, they left, plate of food stored in their backpack (“It’s magic, Vanilla, no need to worry. Oh? Yeah, I can do some magic, but I’m not the best at it; should buy me time to book it if I run into Eggman for sure”), got clear directions to Vanilla and Cream’s home, and, after hugging Cream goodbye and promising to visit, they headed back towards that tree.

It was getting dark, as they crossed through the thin barrier of trees that led to the flower field. It’d be best if they camped out by the tree overnight, really; they didn’t want to get lost in the soon-to-be nighttime woods.

So, to the tree they went. They had packed a pretty dope hammock, and while the swing was low in its branches, they could probably hook themselves up higher in the leaves without much trouble.

As they reach the tree, place their hand on its bark, they notice something that wasn’t in the flower field before.

That something being a levitating robotic chair thing, with an overly rotund and filthy mustached man sitting in it, waiting.

They had no doubts that this was the infamous Eggman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Up: Scorch Meets Eggman, for real this time!!! I meant to have him in this one, just I couldn't forget about Cream and Cheese, or Vanilla!
> 
> And, if you're liking what you're reading, consider dropping a comment! Remember, comments feed the author!
> 
> Shoutout to the Sonic Discord for being Cool Beans! Y'all keeping me motivated n shit!
> 
> Youtube Playlist for this fic is [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXSSMKf5cO_FcfNLRY8ynnK8F22W_s_dG)!!!


	6. Sinking Feeling

They paused, staring at the aerial craft. It was… oddly round, like an oversized golf ball without all the little dents. It had a small gun mounted to the bottom, though that was… probably for Sonic, and wouldn’t be used here.

Hopefully.

Eggman was perched inside, fiddling with his moustache as he waited for them to get closer to both the tree and himself. He was… Using the foliage as cover for his ship, most likely, since the archeological site would probably panic if they saw it.

Eventually, they pick their way to the tree, leaning against it as they stare at Eggman, and Eggman stares at them.

They can win any staring contest, except against fish. Fish don’t have eyelids.

“I am Dr. Ivo Robotnik,” Eggman began, clearly the loser of their staring contest. “Though, it seems you already know who I am.”

“I’ve heard some things, yes.” Be polite to the man with the gun, but don’t agree to anything. Yes, good plan. A-plus plan, in fact. Couldn’t go wrong.

“Mmm. Well, I suppose it is my and Sonic’s fault that you’re here, so it’s only fair that I meet you.” He nodded, agreeing with himself.

Something about this man felt… off, and wrong. Maybe it was Vanilla’s warning, or maybe it was because they couldn’t see Eggman’s eyes.

But something felt off, and something felt wrong.

“Fair enough. I consider myself met, then.” They tuck their hands into their jacket pockets, choosing not to show their unease. Once this was over, they could book it to Vanilla’s place and be confused in safety.

But not yet.

“Well, that’s good.” Eggman seems confused. He was probably expecting some soft of fearful response, some sort of ‘please don’t hurt me,’ and yet he had not.

“Mhmm.” They close their hand around a small bottle, one of the few things from their backpack that was small enough to be pulled out through their jacket pockets. Even though they doubted Eggman would attack, it was nice to be prepared.

As for why they could get it from both places?

Magic, is how.

“Now, do you have anywhere to stay? I’ve got some open beds in my lair, if you need them.” And there it was. They didn’t know what he wanted to do to them, but they’d trust him as far as they could throw him.

Which wasn’t very far.

“I’ve got somewhere to stay. I do appreciate the offer, though.” Be polite, be polite, _be polite_.

“I see… Well, should you need the space, feel free to let me know.”

“Can do, but just how am I gonna find you? No offense, but I doubt Sonic would want to help with that.”

Eggman laughs. Not the kind of laugh you’d expect from someone acting like an evil villain; no, this is… a genuine laugh, of sorts. They’d have called it a chortle, if the word wasn’t The Worst Word, second only to moist.

“That is true. Here, catch.” He picks up a small, rectangular device and tosses it at them; they catch, with some fumbling.

It’s red and white, matching the color scheme of his little ship. Once they have it in- hand, it unfolds to have a tri-screen with a little keyboard. It looks kind-of like if someone took a blackberry phone and added extra screens to it, because one was clearly not enough to play Tetris or snake.

“That’s a prototype invention, it doesn’t have a name yet.” Eggman began, pride dripping through his voice and turning the flowers brown. “It’s designed for survival—track down edible food and water sources, as well as notifies my base in case I need to summon another ship like this one.” He pats his ship lovingly; he must have had it a long time, indeed.

“Regardless, if you press the red button on the leftmost panel, it will summon one of these. That’s how I’ll know you need to crash at my lair.”

Red button… Oh, yeah, there it is. It’s covered under a thin plastic cover, so that it wouldn’t get pressed if they shut the invention.

Neat.

Too bad it probably also had a tracking chip in it.

“I… Uh, thanks, I guess.” They, after some slight fumbling, manage to close the invention and tuck it into their backpack. “Assuming I see you again, I’ll let you know how it works.”

“Wonderful!” He claps his hands, evidently pleased. “I’ll see you later, Scorch!”

And with that, he leaves. Flies away, into the evening sky.

They watch him leave, ignoring the chill that crawled up their spine and settled in their lungs. The distinct unease that came from one, simple, itty-bitty fact.

They hadn’t told Eggman their name.

* * *

“… Guess I’ll take Vanilla up on her offer for now.” They mumble, turning back towards the archeological site. “It’d be rude to ask Eggman for a place to stay, since he just left.”

And, while they were headed to Vanilla and Cream’s place, that last part? Wasn’t for them.

After all, since they hadn’t shared their name with Eggman, how had he known what their name was? Better yet, how had he known where to find them?

Oh.

Oh, they were so _stupid_!

Evil genius, who specializes in robotics? They were being tracked, and they didn’t know how. Were they being followed? If they went to Vanilla’s, would that put her and Cream and Cheese in danger?

They didn’t have much of a choice, at that point. They were going to have to ask someone about this, and Vanilla seemed to be the only one around, including Sonic and his friends, who wouldn’t immediately assume they were working with Eggman.

So, to Vanilla’s they went. Back through the field, back to the archeological site, and down the path she’d pointed out before they left placed them at a small cottage. The lights were on inside, and something smelled heavenly from the inside.

Too bad for them, though; they felt sick to their stomach, throat tight with anxiety.

They knocked on the door, then stepped back a bit.

They shouldn’t be doing this.

The door opened with Cream’s shout of happiness, a small ball of cute joy clinging to their leg.

Robotically, they patted Cream’s head, managed to spit out a greeting while still sounding normal.

It was Vanilla’s presence, poking her had out of the kitchen, who caught on to what may have happened.

“Cream, could you set an extra seat at the table?”

“Yes, mama!”

“Scorch, feel free to take your shoes off at the door; leave your bag there too, you can help me wrap up with supper.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

They stepped inside, doing as instructed as Cream dashed away to set the table. They noticed a small bug on their backpack, some kind of alien ladybug. Oh, well.

They shed their coat as well, hung it up on the coat rack next to the door, and went into the kitchen to help Vanilla with cooking.

“… He’s been tracking me.” They state quietly, over the sound of the water as they wash their hands. They didn’t need to make Cream worry, after all. “I’m not sure how, or for how long, but he knew where I was going. He knew my name, and I never told it to him.”

“I see.” Vanilla is equally as quiet, her eyes focused on the stew-like thing she was making but her mind clearly somewhere else. “I’m sorry that he’s taken an interest in you.”

“… I’ll leave in the morning. I don’t want to put you two in danger.”

“It’s fine. I’ll see if Sonic can’t find whatever he’s been using to track you. Did Eggman give you anything? Oh, here, knead this dough.” They wrapped up washing their hands, took over kneading the dough for what they assumed would be bread.

“… Yeah, he did. Some sort of prototype machine, something to help find food and water. Then again, since he’s been able to hear what I’ve been saying, I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Did you get rid of it?” They kneaded the dough more, as if it were Eggman; that is, if Eggman was a dough and if kneading it would hurt him. How _dare_ he track them!

“Not yet. Planning on it, but after I figure out how he’s been tracking me. Wouldn’t do to smash it or something if he can still find me.”

“Mmmm… So, I should see if I can’t get Sonic to come over sooner rather than later. He’s always been a sucker for sweets, so I’ll whip up some chocolate cake after dinner.”

“I’ll do my best to help with that, since this is technically my fault.”

“Your help would be appreciated. You think you could make some chocolate icing?”

“From scratch? I can give it a shot, but I’m not sure what ingredients are different from my world.”

They notice the little bug from their backpack on the room’s wall. They pause their dough-kneading, grab a napkin and squish it up. Poor bug.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. There’s a bug on the wall, I’m gonna kill it real quick.” They smack their napkin-ed hand on the bug, the crunch sounding… oddly metallic.

“… Uh… Vanilla, I think I found the tracker.” She stopped her cooking, grabbing a glass as she approached the still-crushed tracker bug.

“It’s not dead yet.” She mumbled, glass at the ready to trap it. “However, it’s probably weak enough to not escape a cup. We can send it hope with Sonic for Tails to take a look at.”

“Sounds good. Here, you ready?”

“I am.”

“Alright. Then, three, two, one… now!” As they remove their hand, Vanilla goes in with the cup. And… it’s caught!

She was right, it hadn’t been killed. It fluttered about angrily inside the cup, like an angry wasp.

A few minutes later, the small robot was on the table, cup and all. They’d moved it like they would a cup-ified spider, by slipping a piece of paper underneath the cup and then transferring it to a new surface.

“How much do you think it heard?”

“With my luck?” They let out a dry laugh, washing their hands before going back to the dough. “Probably almost everything.”

“… I’ll have Sonic stop by tomorrow morning.”

“Mom, how’s dinner going? Almost done?”

“Yes, dear, though the rolls won’t be ready when we sit down.”

* * *

In his lair, Eggman was fuming. They had known the whole time! Had almost crushed his drone! And, worst of all, his invention was pinging all over the place; he knew where it should be, but it was pinging everywhere on the planet and in a new location every few minutes!

Still, this would be interesting. And, more importantly, now he had a reason to catch them. For hurting his precious, little drone…

He laughed—a wild, manic laugh, one befitting the evil genius he truly was.

Scorch would pay, whether they wanted to or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all liked this one!!! Next Up, Sonic gets Cake!
> 
> If you're liking what you're reading, consider dropping a comment! Remember, comments feed the author!
> 
> Shoutout to the Sonic Discord for being the Coolest of Beans! Y'all keeping me motivated n shit!
> 
> Youtube Playlist for this fic is [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXSSMKf5cO_FcfNLRY8ynnK8F22W_s_dG)!!!


	7. Pay No Mind

Dinner was peaceful. The stew was delicious, the rolls were super good and flakey, and Cream asked them oodles of questions. Included was what their favorite color was (Purple), what the cool drawing on their back and arms was (a super awesome tattoo, if they do say so themself), how they could knead dough so good (their mom worked in a bakery and sometimes they’d help out), and what they wanted to do during their sleepover (sleep, mostly, but they’d be down for a game or two first).

Scorch and Vanilla cleared the table; or, rather, Scorch tried to help, but Vanilla shooed them away and then Cream wouldn’t let them help set up the game. Then, they played a board game that was similar to Candyland, which they lost. Intentionally lost, so that Cream could win, but they made sure to put up a good fight!

Vanilla put Cream to bed with promises of pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, while Scorch got set up for the nice long conversation that was sure to follow. Tea was brewed and placed into two mugs, prepared special just for the Not So Fun conversation. And, on top of that, the bug-drone was moved to be outside, but hidden so that Eggman couldn’t take it back before Sonic saw it.

So, once Vanilla was done, they sat and chatted.

“You know,” Vanilla began, sipping her tea. “I never caught your age.”

“I’m 21.” Scorch sips their tea, sighing as the warm feeling settled in their stomach. They’d hedge their bets that this was supposed to be a calming tea, since it was working. “I never caught yours, either.”

“I’m 35, dear. You’re awful young, yourself…” Vanilla sighed, looking absently through the window and into the darkness of the night. “It’s a shame you’ve been pulled into this mess.”

“I’m aware. Though, I feel more for Sonic and the others. They’re so painfully young…”

“Mmm…”

They discussed a lot of things. Scorch’s homeworld, how their magic works, everything under the sun. Even so, when they did eventually go to bed, their brain was still wired.

If their being here caused Eggman to harm Vanilla and Cream…

Well, they wouldn’t be responsible for their actions.

They were woken up by the smell of pancakes and Cream gently booping their nose.

“Oh, you’re awake!” She bounced from foot to foot, excited. “Mom said that you need to get up soon, since you two are gonna make a cake!”

“M’kay…” They yawn, stretching as they climb to their feet.

“C’mon, breakfast is almost ready!”

“I’m coming, squirt, I’m coming.” They trudge sleepily towards the kitchen, where breakfast plates have been laid out for the three of them.

“Glad to see you’re up; you seemed pretty tired.” Vanilla smiled warmly, passing them their pancake plate. “Go eat, I’ll join you two in a moment. The syrup is on the table.”

They nod, claiming a seat at the table. Cream takes the seat next to them, passing them the syrup as well as a cup full of a hot liquid.

“Mom said you might need it,” She said, answering Scorch’s confused look. “It’s coffee.”

“Awesome.” They sip, letting the familiar flavor envelop them. It was… sweeter, than regular coffee back home. Good, though.

They have more, careful not to burn the roof of their mouth, as they pour some syrup onto their pancakes. Once they’re done, the syrup returns to Cream, who pours a heaping helping of it onto her breakfast.

“There, now.” Vanilla said, joining them at the breakfast table. “Is it good?”

They take a bite, one with some syrup, and nod. They are pretty spectacular pancakes, though the syrup has a fruity tang. Guess it’s taken from a different tree in this world!

“Good!”

Breakfast was uneventful. Nice conversation, but mostly coffee. By the time all the pancakes were eaten, coffee was consumed, and Scorch was far more awake than they had been.

“There! Now then, Scorch and I have a cake to bake. Cream, would you like to help?”

“Yes!!!” Cream had little stars in her eyes, bouncing excitedly in her chair. Guess cake was pretty rare, indeed!

“Good! Now, could you grab me the big mixing bowls and the measuring cups? Scorch and I will grab the ingredients.”

“Yes, mom!”

And so, cake-baking began!

* * *

A solid hour after baking began, there was a cake! The icing was being applied with Cream’s careful hand, Scorch there to ladle extra icing as needed, when there was a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Vanilla winked at the two of them, going to answer the door.

“Hey, Ms. Vanilla!” Sonic’s voice echoed down the hall. “I was just running by and smelled something pretty good!”

“That you did! Cream, Scorch, and I just finished baking a cake. Would you like some?”

“Ms. Vanilla, you already know the answer to that one.” Vanilla just laughs, and then Sonic is standing in front of the Icing Crew.

“Sonic.”

“Scorch.”

Evidently, he was still upset with them. No matter; he did not control the speed at which the cake was iced.

“Sonic!!!” Cream waved, but concentrated on getting the icing Just So. “Once we’re done, you can have some yummy cake!”

“Sounds like a plan!” And he’s bounced back to what they assume is his ‘normal.’ He then disappears, flitting back to Vanilla.

A whispered conversation takes place, one they can’t quite make out. However, they were willing to bet Sonic was asking why they were there, of all places.

“—and you be nice to them, okay?” Vanilla’s voice raised ever so slightly, anger coloring her words. “They’ve already been stalked by Eggman, so you had best help them or I’ll be angry with you!”

Their voices dipped back to being inaudible, but… Geez, Vanilla considered them a kid too, didn’t she?

Well, the woman was 35—she did have every right to think that.

“What are Momma and Sonic talking about?” Cream whispered, finally finishing with the cake.

“Secret stuff, I bet.” They whisper back, pretending they’re fine. “Maybe new recipes…”

“You think so?” Cream’s eyes were wide with excitement. Such a sweet kid.

“Yeah, I do. Then again, it might be super-secret stuff. Stuff you and I even don’t know about.”

“Wow…” Cream opened her mouth, then shut it again. “I wonder if it’s for my birthday…”

“Maybe. But, if it’s a surprise, I wouldn’t try to find out. After all, birthday surprises are the _best_ surprises.”

“Mhmm!” Cream was bouncing in her seat, super excited for her future birthday.

Before they can continue, Sonic re-appears, Vanilla walking back in soon after. She seemed… upset, but was hiding it well. Well, well enough that a six-year-old wouldn’t pick up on it.

“So, how’s that cake?”

“It’s done!!! We don’t have any sprinkles, though… Sorry, Sonic, I know those’re your favorite.”

“Hey, no biggie; a sprinkle-less cake is still a pretty good cake!” He smiled wide, patting Cream’s head. “It’ll be great, I’m sure of it.”

“Yay!!” Cream, satisfied wit that answer, hopped off the countertop and went to grab plates.

“Now then… how much cake do you want?”

“A biiiiig piece!” Sonic gestured with his arms, as if to show just how big a slice he wanted. Which would be endearing, if they weren’t still kind-of blaming him for their being here in the first place.

“I’ll have a medium-small piece.”

“Mama, I want a big piece too!” Cream found the plates, walking them in with her cake slice request.

“We’ll see.” Vanilla took the plates and, with a flourish, started divvying up the slices. Cream got a Cream-sized slice, which was slightly larger than their own and Vanilla’s. Sonic had a decently large slice, but there would still be enough for everyone except Sonic to have a second slice.

Sonic took the first bite, letting out soft sound of approval.

“This is really good, Vanilla! Icing’s different, but I like it! New recipe?”

“Mhmm. Scorch’s recipe, actually.” Vanilla took a bite of her own slice, pre-prepared with a cup of tea to wash the richness down. “It’s very good.”

“Yeah!” Cream had, somehow, managed to get icing on her nose while eating. She was even using a fork and taking small bites, so maybe it was from the icing creation process. “Scorch is actually a really good chef!”

“D’aww, thanks, guys.” They smile, taking a bite of the cake. It was, decidedly, too rich with the cake and icing combo; Vanilla passed them a cup of tea to help.

Sonic, who now looked like he had just sucked on a particularly sour lemon, chose (wisely) to keep silent and keep eating his cake. Like, sure, he was young, but did he really doubt that they could make something that tasted good?

Once the cake was eaten and plates washed, Cream decided she wanted to go outside to play. She brought Cheese with her, and, after promising Vanilla she wouldn’t go far, darted outside to play.

Which left the trio there to sort out the mess that Eggman had made.

“… Vanilla told me something about a bug?” Sonic started, voice and even posture changed. It was as if he went from being a kid to being A Hero.

Which… well, they’d have to ask Vanilla more about him. Since that wasn’t normal for any kid, ever, unless it was for play.

“Mhmm. It was some sort of small drone, no bigger than a ladybug.”

“A ladybug?” Both Vanilla and Sonic look confused by the term—guess there are no ladybugs here.

“It’s a bug from my world. The drone-thing was no bigger than my pinkie’s fingernail.” Scorch shows said nail for the size comparison.

“… Weird. None of Eggman’s drones have been that small before.” Sonic ducks out, returning moments later with the cup and drone. Aforementioned drone is lamely knocking itself against the glass, trying and failing to free itself. “Buuuuut this looks like something Eggman would make.”

“Oh, goodie. I get a homicidal mad scientist stalking me. _Perfect_.” Scorch rubs their temples, frustration dripping from their voice like honey. “ _And_ he knows where I am. _Fabulous_.”

“You’re gonna be okay, alright?” Sonic placed a hand on their knee, clearly so sure in himself—but they had doubts. Doubts that, at present, they weren’t going to share.

Sonic is a child, after all.

“… Thanks, Sonic.” His face lightens at that, before he goes back to being Serious.

“Vanilla also said something about Eggman giving you an invention?”

“Yeah… It’s in my backpack, so—“ Sonic blips out of existence, back again with Scorch’s bag before they can even blink. “—uh, thanks. He said it was some kind of prototype, for if he gets stranded from one of his schemes failing again Something about it being able to call for help from another one of his lairs?” they take the bag from Sonic, pulling the device out as they do so.

“I don’t know if I believe it or not, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he could track this, too.”

“Then why’d you keep it in your backpack?”

“It’s an interdimensional storage space where I keep lots of things, thus rendering his tracking unusable—” They stop, looking at how Sonic’s eyes had glazed over. Simple explanation it was, then.

“It’s magic.”

“Oh! Okay, that makes sense. Do you want to keep it in there so I can bring it to Tails?” They tuck the device back in, zipping the bag shut once it’s back where it temporarily belonged.

“… I’m the only one who can use the magical part of the backpack. It’s how it’s designed. Sorry.”

Sonic frowned, thinking hard.

“Well… if taking it out lets him track you, then just… don’t take it out. Easy as pie!” He nods, smiling once again. Vanilla covers her mouth; she’s probably trying not to laugh at him. He is… Cute, and easy to laugh at. Very precious.

They’re still upset with him, though. They will not let the cuteness fool them!

“That was my plan, too. I figure it’s either throwing the GPS signal all over the place willy-nilly, or it’s throwing it out of the universe and his system’s throwing errors.”

“That… Uh, that sounds good?”

“They mean it’s messing with Eggman’s ability to find them, dear.” Vanilla piped up, offering a regular-ified explanation.

“Oh. Well, in that case, that’s perfect!” The Hero has saved the day!

“Mhmm. Oh, Vanilla,” They began, standing and stretching. “Thanks for letting me spend the night. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re leaving?” Sonic’s ears drooped; they… guess that they’ve earned his appreciation? Which, okay?

“I have to grab some things from my car. Left some stuff in the trunk, and the walk is a pain.”

“Well, for _you_ , yeah.” Yeah, duh, Sonic. Not all of us have superspeed.

“Mhmm. So, I need to go grab that, and then everything is up in the air.”

“But, you could just stay with Vanilla!”

Ah, the crux of the issue. They could stay with Vanilla, yes. Just as they could stay with Eggman. Okay, unfair comparison, since one is probably a homicidal maniac and the other is a nice bunny lady, but still.

“I could, yes. But I’m not bringing in any money, and Vanilla is a single mother whose priority is Cream. If you can find me a job, that’s a different story. Until then, I need to figure things out for myself.”

Vanilla nodded, placing a hand on Sonic’s shoulder before he opened his mouth.

“I understand, dear. Just know, my home is always open for you if you need it.”

“Of course. And, since I know Cream will be sad… Let her know that I’ll come back to visit. Alright?”

As both heads nodded, they shouldered their bag and walked towards the door.

“Oh, and Sonic?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor and tell Tails he doesn’t need to stress on finding me a way home. It’ll take as long as it takes, and no faster.”

And with that, they left. Tracker-free, they headed out towards the tree, and their car.

And, hopefully, no scheming Eggman.

And also, luck being decent, they won’t get lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're liking what you're reading, consider dropping a comment! Remember, comments feed the author!
> 
> Shoutout to my friends on the sonic server and also all my other friends, y'all keeping me SANE in these quarantine times!
> 
> Youtube Playlist for this fic is [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXSSMKf5cO_FcfNLRY8ynnK8F22W_s_dG)!!!


	8. The Jungle

The woods glowed in the afternoon light, leaves tinged orange in the slowly fading light. The shadows cast were stunning, each one looking hand-painted and hand-crafted, applied to a portrait of a high-class woman from the Victorian era. It was a masterpiece, created for their viewing pleasure, one cherry-picked from all the beautiful scenery that it could have been. Small mushrooms growing from logs looked almost luminescent, tiny buttercups reaching towards the sky with leaves praising the sun.

And yet, Scorch did not care about that.

They picked their way through the woods, letting out a sigh for the umpteenth time. They didn’t want to admit it, but… being three and a half hours into their two-ish hour hike really wasn’t ideal.

“I’m not… lost…” They mutter, trudging onwards. They’d pulled a machete out of their backpack an hour back, the underbrush of the area a touch too thick for convenience. Now, though, they’d really needed it.

Which… Really, there hadn’t been any walls of brambles near their car!!!

Probably!!!

Still, they’d be fine.

The scenery had changed, the sunshine only making the forest glow even more. All the details were sharpened, as if viewing a painting through a magnifying glass and seeing detail that could have only been painted with a single hair strand. The bark of the trees stood out, now, with the light catching their edges and making a dull brown become a cascade of oranges. The mushrooms were shrouded in darkness, but still showed their reds and oranges. The buttercups, still straining for sunlight, began to settle in for the night.

And still, Scorch did not care about that.

Four hours in. No sign of their car, or running water, or _anything_.

Weight settled in the pit of their stomach, despair and anxiety curled tight like snakes, poised to strike.

No-one knew where they were. No-one could know where they were, except for Eggman, and that was _far_ more dangerous an option.

And, even worse, _they_ didn’t know where they were.

“Okay… I’ll be alright, probably. Sonic will come looking later, I know he probably promised Vanilla that he would, so… I’ll be okay. Yeah, this is fine!”

Darkness settled in in full, the night sky a cascade of stars and color. There were more stars that could be counted by hand, so many stars that the sky looked to be bathed in blue brush strokes as the Milky Way pierced the sky. Clouds, carefully placed, framed the stars in all their glory.

And still, Scorch did not care about that.

Six hours in.

Things were Not Fine.

Either it was the anxiety strangling them, the fear coiling around their spine and piercing their heart, or the despair that stabbed them through the heart, but something didn’t sit right with the whole situation.

Especially since, even though they did not trust Eggman, his gadget _should_ work.

They had the way back in their bag, and they weren’t using it. Sure, it would track them, but that was a secondary issue! Getting out of the woods was issue number one!

But… they could try turning around. They could get back to the trail through the thick brush, and then it was just a matter of finding that massive flower field again. So, the real question remained:

What should they do?

Stay put, and yell for Sonic? Or… try to back-track?

Or… pull out Eggman’s weird prototype?

No, no weird prototypes. Do not let the dangerous man track and find them, even if it’s out for a little bit.

…

..

.

Then again, if it’s out for only a moment, and just to figure out where they are, they could get back easier.

That did, admittedly, sound pretty good… But, would it lead him to them?

Was it really worth the risk? Even if it would, admittedly, improve their sanity?

No.

No, it really, truly wasn’t.

Were they going to do it anyways?

Probably.

* * *

“Sir!” Eggman turned, head whipping towards the robot he had stationed to track the signal his prototype was giving off. “We have unusual behavior!”

“What do you mean?”

“At present, the device sends out a signal for four-point-five seconds before changing to a different location. However! Present signal lasted for six-point-seven seconds!”

“So, she used it. Interesting…” A cruel smile settled on his face, fingers flitting over a nearby keyboard.

This would be _fun_.

“Send the small drones to that location. I want her tracked—her every move, every step, everything! I have some things to prepare.”

The robot manning the observation station nodded, saluting as Eggman left the room.

“Yes, sir!”

* * *

Scorch looked up and around, taking in the scenery they had been ignoring. Sure, it was a bit dark now, but the stars would guide their way.

Now, for the long hike back. Still no idea where the damn car is, but now they know where they are and where they should be going. Indispensable, that peace of mind.

Now, to hike that way. For… four-ish hours. No panicking allowed this time!!! None!!!

They’d be fine.

So, they start, machete in tow, prepared to try and tackle some stray brambles.

The journey would be a long one. Pain in the ass, too.

But they’d manage.

* * *

Sonic couldn’t find them. He’d found their car, and looked all over, and hadn’t found them. He’d also made four pit-stops to Vanilla’s to let her know what was up. She had, of course, told him to leave Scorch alone. But, what if they’d gotten lost! If they couldn’t find their way back, then what kind of hero would he be? Especially since it was dark out now; if Eggman found them, even he would have trouble navigating back home.

He could spread out a wider net, find them then hunker down for the night. But, he could also find them in the morning.

But, he really should find them now…

He wasn’t on a timer, though.

After all, they probably hadn’t taken out that thing Eggman had made.

* * *

An hour into their return hike, and something felt… off.

Scorch couldn’t quite place why. Perhaps it was the lack of crickets, which had been singing earlier. Or, maybe, it was the sounds of engines, off in the distance.

Actually, no, it was the sounds of engines.

In the darkness, they couldn’t see where the engine noises were coming from. It was that quiet hum, though, that let them know to be on their guard.

This was… not going to be pretty. Still, though, if he thought they didn’t know he was there, they could continue as they were.

A few steps further, though, proved that that wouldn’t be the case.

“Hello, Scorch.” Eggman’s ship rocketed down through the treetops, shattering branches like they were glass. “Long time, no see.”

“Same to you, Robotnik.” They say, taking a few steps back. As to why they didn’t call him Eggman?

He still had that _fucking gun_ on his ship.

“What’s with the visit? Just stopping by?” Keep Calm. If they kept calm and played dumb, they’d probably be safe.

Hopefully.

“Well, yes and no. I was wondering how my invention was working out for you?” He tapped the surface of his ship. Not impatiently, no; it was as if he was… bored.

“I haven’t had a chance to fully test it, but it’s auto-generating map is pretty useful.”

“Mhmm. So, you’ve used it more than once?” … guess he knew there was something up with their backpack, then? Ah, well, it couldn’t stay a secret forever.

“Can’t say I have, no. I just like a challenge.”

“That so?”

“Yeah. Apparently, being stubborn runs in the family.”

“I see…” A smallish drone, no larger than a leaf, appeared out of the darkness. It flew over to Eggman, positioned itself behind him. So… He’d been tracking them again, since they don’t know how long. Vanilla’s house? When they took out the invention? From Tails’ lab?

Just how long have they been tracked?

“… Nice drone you’ve got there.”

“Why, thank you! It’s custom-made.” Eggman puffs up with pride, his neutral expression looking far happier than it had previously.

“Pretty neat. What else does it do, aside from fly and track things?”

“Many things! It tracks, as you said, and it can create a small defensive barrier as needed. Not enough to protect against Sonic, but from your average denizen of this world. They work in pairs.”

Tranquilize?

Oh.

_Oh._

There’s a sharp prick on the back of their neck; their hand flies to grab it, only to smack into the second drone.

“Oh, I forgot to mention; they also carry a strong sedative.” Their vision blurred; balance unsteady.

Their machete drops to the ground, Scorch falling to their knees soon after.

“Why…?”

“Why? Silly girl, it’s simple. You broke my drone, and I have a new experiment to try. You’ll make a fine test subject.”

“Not a girl…”

Before the world went dark, they spotted a blue blur.

…

..

.

Sonic?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! I know I left this chapter on a bit of a cliffhanger, but that's the fun part :)
> 
> Youtube Playlist for this fic is [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXSSMKf5cO_FcfNLRY8ynnK8F22W_s_dG)!!!


	9. Looking For Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! This chapter starts the Dark Shit for our home slice, Scorch. Beware: this gonna be One Angsty Boi!!
> 
> And, there's a Discord Server for this fic, now! The Discord for this fic can be found [here](https://discord.gg/QnKnnFa)!!!

Scorch clawed their way towards consciousness, fought tooth and nail against whatever drugs had been pumped into their system.

It was the lights that woke them first. They were bright, sterile, like hospital lights in the emergency room. The light was blinding, occasionally winking out of existence as something blocked it.

They couldn’t move.

They screamed, but could not scream. Cried, but could not cry.

Where were they?

What had _happened_ to them?

They can feel it, the drug. It’s fighting them, fighting their ability to move and speak and think. They’re sluggish, slow, unable to truly combat the drug.

They know, intuitively, they are not where they started out. The smells—or, rather, the smells they’re picking up on—are not what they had been smelling. No more pine-like smells, no more damp mosses, no more slight forest-y mold. It’s been replaced, changed—now they smell disinfectant, and a distinct chemical-y smell of home cleaning supplies. There’s something else, too; a metal tang, souring the air.

Is it machinery? Worked metal, wafting into the room?

Or is it blood?

They have to know.

Their back, once numb, now feels. Feels pain. Feels like…

What are they on?

The surface is cold, the temperature seeping through their thick leather jacket. Is it ice? Metal?

They didn’t know.

They had to get up.

Slowly, carefully, they pried open an eye. Just one. The force, motivation, perseverance required to force the eye open was barely insurmountable. It was almost too much; it would have been easier to let the drug take them back to unconscious bliss, than to see the world around them.

It’s blurry.

Blurry, and bright, and silvery grey.

It’s not a hospital room, that much is obvious. There would be decoration, something to offset the walls and the lights. Now, though, even with the blurriness, there is none. Save one large mass, that was… Red. And… had handlebars.

Which…

Well.

Unless this was what a hospital on Mobius looked like, they had one guess as to their location.

They were in Eggman’s lair.

But that begged the question: how did they get there?

They remembered being in a forest, and getting lost, and…

Oh.

Oh, yeah, okay.

Using his invention had been a Dumb Idea.

Still, though, their memory was… fuzzy.

Had Sonic saved them? They remember a blue blur, but then…n

Nothing.

Nothing, where there _should_ be something.

They could hear a frantic beeping in the background. It was faint, but there.

Heart rate machine, maybe?

But then, why was it going so fast?

Wait, they’re dumb, it’s their heart rate. No _shit_ it’s through the roof.

There’s another sound, a grating voice. They can’t make out the words.

Was it important?

Was it Not Important?

No, it had to be important. After all, their captor/savior/whoisthisagain was speaking.

They’re feeling, again. Fingers and toes, now, along with their back.

Why did they hurt so much?

Arms, legs, thighs, shoulders—everything hurt.

What had happened, in that missing chunk of memory?

And why could they not open their other eye?

The world, slowly and agonizing in it’s every step, hauled itself into focus.

Slowly, the walls forced themselves to reveal their metallic nature, the bolts pierced into them to hold the small structure together.

Slowly, the red blob forced itself into a shape. Forced itself to have a moustache, and a large red coat over a fat body.

Slowly, their body regained the last of it’s feeling. Their eye burned and ached, pain pulsing in time with their heartbeat. The wounds—or, they assumed were wounds—on their back pulsated in time with their heart as well.

Their ears were the last to recover. The speaking sounds became clearer, slowly but surely. The beeping slowed, as did their heart rate.

It was then, and only then, did they notice the… thing, currently wrapped around their neck.

An experimental wiggle—as much as it pained them to do, to feel whatever the wounds were on their back re-open, to feel the cold steel clamps of the metal table bite into their chest and wrists and ankles—revealed that the metal around their neck moved with them.

Breathing was no problem, and yet—

\--and yet, they did not know what it was.

And that scared them infinitely more than the small pistol-like weapon that was strapped to Eggman’s hip.

“—and I take it you are alert now, yes?” Eggman spoke, turning to address them and away from… some sort of doorway, if the soft woosh of a hatch closing was any indication.

“Mmmhm.” They groan out, throat scratchy and raw. It was here, now, where they noticed the metal over their mouth, like a mask that clamped on their lower jaw. They could speak—but for how long? “Th’ fuck am I?”

“I assume you have an idea.” He putters around them, flitting through scalpels and pliers and tools they didn’t even know the names of. “You put up quite a fight.”

“Did I, now?” they shift again; maybe the things keeping them down are weak, can be broken, can be fought against and shattered so that they can book it and get the hell out of there. “Would _love_ to remember that.”

Eggman blinked owlishly behind his glasses, confusion as evident on his face as words are written in a book.

“The serum wasn’t supposed to affect your memory… How odd.”

Just… That’s it?

How odd?

“… You’re fucking with me, aren’t you.”

It’s not a question, it cannot be a question.

Why _else_ would Eggman use an untested serum on someone, especially someone he intended to keep alive?

“Unfortunately, no. Though, you did hit your head decently hard—it is far more likely to be a concussion.”

Hmm.

Yeah, a concussion did seem far more likely.

Then again, convenient excuse…

“You understand how little I happen to trust you at the moment, yes?”

Eggman laughed—a full, cruelty-full, evil laugh that they had really only heard in cartoons and cheesy films.

So… They were absolutely, 100%, in danger. And, unless their situation changed, they were undeniably fucked.

With a probable madman, definite idiot.

Son of a bitch.

“You don’t understand the situation you’re in, do you?”

Well.

Two doors. One, where they stay quiet. The other, where they sass and probably get killed OR he will think it’s funny.

Decisions, decisions…

Door two does look tempting, but getting to live, though…

“… I have a decent guess, but enlighten me.”

He raised an eyebrow, frown visible from underneath his moustache.

“A demonstration, then.” He nods, sure of himself.

He approaches the side tables once again, the ones full of scalpels and pliers and all the other tools, and picked up a small remote.

He pressed a button on it, one of the several buttons, and the metal over their mouth knit shut. No amount of straining could free them, no amount of glaring could release them.

This was… Well, what did the other buttons do? If there was one to hold their mouth shut, then…

Oh.

Oh, this was _bad_.

If he could do that, then what else could he do?

“So, you see now?” Eggman smirks, a smugness radiating off of the rotund villain. “I have complete control over you. What you say, what you do, what you eat, what you drink. You are, for lack of a better word, _mine_.”

They glare—it’s truly the only thing they can do, but do it they must—fear and hatred pooling up in their stomach like bile, rising up in their throat. What if, what if, _what if_.

What if’s swirled in their mind, their self-control forcing them not to show its true extent. And, sure, they had their magic to protect themselves with—but how were they supposed to protect themselves against—

“This comes from the collar on your neck. It marks you as mine and will explode if you try to take it off. I’m sure I don’t need to explain why removing it would be a bad idea?”

Oh, that’s a relief.

They can off themselves if he goes too far.

They shake their head no, allowing a sigh to leave through their nose. Not that it could have left through their mouth, but still. Out it goes.

“Good. Now, since you understand, I trust there will be no issues on your part?”

A nod.

“Good. Now, then…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! We're into the Juicy Part Now, AKA: That good angst-y dark shit.
> 
> Youtube Playlist for this fic is [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXSSMKf5cO_FcfNLRY8ynnK8F22W_s_dG)!!!
> 
> Again, the Discord for this fic is [here](https://discord.gg/QnKnnFa)!!! Get spoilers as I work on this fic more :D


	10. Ugo

They look around, absorbing the hallways and the doors they pass, barely keeping up with Eggman and his chain-link leash. He pulled, dragging them down, down, further into the depths of his lair.

It would be easy to get lost, but there was… some kind of pattern in the layout. It was based on the doors… probably. Maybe not.

He pulled, silent, forcing them forward and beyond.

Breathing was… becoming difficult, the more winded they got. For a fat man, he moved faster than they expected.

Shame he hadn’t unlocked their jaw yet.

“Here we are.” He stopped short in front of a large door, the sudden stop causing them to almost slam into him.

“This,” he turned, throwing his arms wide—they stepped to the side, to avoid their neck getting pulled—with a wide smile. “Is my base of operations.”

The doors opened with an automatic swish noise, revealing a large room. It was, like the rest of what they’d seen so far, made entirely out of metal. What made this room different, however, was that half of it was taken up by a large, glass window, with panels with keyboards and buttons and various monitors underneath and atop it. In the center of the glass section was a metal lounge chair, one surrounded by various keyboards, buttons, and other devices. This room also happened to have two robots—one thin, yellow, and tall, the other short, grey, and round. They were likely robotic servants of some kind, which…

Well, that didn’t bode well for them. If he already had servants, then what would they be good for?

Aside from… _that_.

Well, if they were there for that, at least they’d be treated decently okay?

… They might be better off doing that kind of thing until Sonic tries to save them, though. So, that… Helped, a little. Not by much, though.

“You won’t spend much time here, as you lack the skills to be of any use here. Now, I have things to do—Decoe,” The yellow one looked over from its work, seeming to blink in surprise at the sight of you. “Take her on a tour of the base. Bocoe, you’re with me.”

The bots nodded, and Decoe walked over and took both the lead and the controls that were handed to him.

“Hi! I’m Decoe!” The robot said, seemingly pleased with having a New Prisoner. “Here, do keep up!” It led the way through the door they’d entered through, a skip in its step, as it led them on an Official Eggman Lair Tour.

Thus far, Decoe kept a slower pace than Eggman; it slowed down when they did, so it may have just been a courtesy thing. It chattered away, sharing which rooms were storage and for parts and all sorts of things, as they descended further and further into Eggman’s lair.

A tour meant they would be kept, but for how long they did not know. What _did_ Eggman need them for, anyways? Robot construction? Human interactions? “Company”? They didn’t know. Were likely not meant to know, for now. But it scared them.

“—and since we’re where you’ll sleep, what’s your name? Eggman hasn’t told anyone yet.” The comment halted their train of thought, and they stopped walking.

How… were they meant to answer that? They couldn’t use their mouth, after all.

They simply stared at Decoe, raising an eyebrow at it before pointing at the covering.

“Oh!” It seemed… embarrassed, as it rubbed the back of its metal head with what seemed like an amused sigh. “Sorry. Uh, let me just… take that off or you.” The robot pushed a few buttons on the controller, and the metal mouthguard…

Did nothing.

“Ooooo-KAY then, let me try… this!” Different buttons were pressed, and the metal flew up their face, covering their eyes and ears.

It was… quiet, in the metal. The silence was deafening, but they felt that Decoe was trying to free them.

Their thoughts were screaming, though. Eggman had kept them for a purpose, and with this in his system?

It was pretty clear what they were needed for, now.

… What was taking Decoe so long??? Was this intentional? Was this Eggman’s plan? To start this now, and continue later—

The metal retreated from their face, ears, and mouth, retreating into the collar. Decoe genuinely seemed… Concerned, with his accident. It seems that Eggman had created robots capable of empathy…

Or, you know, they could have a soul in them. Food for thought.

“I’m sorry—are you quite alright?”

“I-I’m fine. Why is there the option for that, though?” Pretend to be unshaken and maybe they’d get to Not Do Those Things, Maybe!

“… I do not know. Perhaps to hide things from you, so that you cannot share them when you leave?”

Wait. That was a when, not an if. So… there was hope, after all?

“… I see.” Ask about it later, then. Maybe these robots would help you leave?

“Well, I am really sorry about that. I’ll ask Eggman to make a more thorough user guide for me and Bocoe so that that doesn’t happen again.” They nod, letting out a soft sigh.

“My name is Scorch, by the way.” ~~~~

“Scorch… It’s a nice name! Not a girl’s name though, but very nice.” Ah. Did Eggman not program the robots with this knowledge, or… what?

“That’ll be because I’m not a girl.”

“… You’re a boy?”

“Nope. Do y’all not have nonbinary people here?”

“What’s that?” Ah. Well, Sonic and his friends did seem to get it, so maybe it was Eggman’s fault.

“Well… A nonbinary person is someone whose gender doesn’t fit into the given binary, male and female. So they’re just Not That.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Think about it like icecream flavors. Some people like Vanilla, others like Chocolate, but that doesn’t mean that Strawberry doesn’t exist. Or cookies and cream. Or, you know, the rest of them.” With Decoe looking decently thoughtful, they turned their attention to their sleeping spot.

It was a small room, one that really ought to be called a closet. It held a thin blanket, an unstuffed burlap sack, and a bucket. The floor and walls was the same metal as everywhere else, but since they weren’t near the top of wherever they were anymore it was far colder. It was really just a high-risk place to get a really nasty cold, maybe even a flu.

… So it was basically a jail cell, but shitter.

Maybe they weren’t here for Eggman’s pleasure, after all. Maybe they were just a lab rat.

… Yeah, that second one might be worse physically, but mentally? They could take it.

“I… still do not get it, but I will do my best to understand.” Decoe nodded, as if affirming himself, and then offered Scorch what they assumed was a happier, soothing look. “I believe that Eggman will want to tell you your purpose here; would you like to come back with me?”

“I… think that would be best. This place is a bit maze-like for me.”

“Aaaalrighty! He’s in his quarters, so you’ll get to see some of those places too.” And with that, Decoe led the way, this time finally able to chatter with Scorch.

On the way, Scorch learned three things. The first, was that no-one really knew why they were there. Decoe’s best guess was that they were there to test the collar thing, which really didn’t explain why Eggman was treating them so poorly. The second was that Eggman created all of his assistant bots to have some semblance of free will, since it allowed them to think creatively and to solve most minor day-to-day problems without assistance. Which was… Far more advanced than their world’s AI’s, that’s for sure. The third, and possibly the most important, was that technically every robot was armed. It helped them protect themselves from Sonic and his friends whenever Eggman did something dumb, or whenever they had some Chaos Emeralds that the gang would try to take.

Decoe chattered about some things, like how Eggman’s favorite color was red and that the goggles were because Eggman didn’t want to admit to needing glasses. Also, that Eggman couldn’t cook, though that surprised them less—mad scientists in most things they’d watched all shared that trait.

Still, the chatter didn’t prepare them for the large set of double mahogany doors, carved in beautiful and disturbing detail to depict a large-scale robot versus army conflict, where Eggman and his bots were the clear winners. Did this happen? Was this wishful thinking? Their stomach churned, a foul taste in the back of their mouth.

Was this Eggman’s goal? To conquer the planet to the point of being its absolute ruler, with no survivors?

The doors creaked open, pushed open by smaller bots to reveal a large living room slash dining space. It was taken up by a handful of large couches, soft-looking rugs, and a long dining table that was, at present, set up for a dinner for two. If the charcoal mass in the center of the table was supposed to be food, that is.

“Eggman!” Decoe called out, leading Scorch into the room. “I’m back, and I brought Scorch!”

Silence answered the statement, though a smaller flying bot flew out at the sound of Decoe’s voice.

“Hey, Decoe. Eggman’s in the kitchen, go ahead and bring her there.”

“Actually, Scorch uses they/them pronouns, but thanks!” Decoe headed towards what they assumed was the kitchen, them in tow; the smaller flying robot seemed to shrug before following as well.

“He’s already warned you about Eggman’s cooking, right?” The flying bot asked, seeming genuinely concerned. “It’s not usually something edible for humans.”

“I was, but thank you for letting me know. I’m Scorch; what’s your name?” If the flying one was going to be this nice, might as well get a name for it.

“I’m Bokkun. I deliver messages for Eggman, though he said that you don’t get the exploding TV’s… which is kinda lame, honestly.”

Before Scorch could ask about the TV’s, they were led into what was, evidently, an incredibly smoke-filled kitchen.

“Eggman! Are you alright!” Decoe, alarmed, dropped the lead that was still attached to the collar and darting into the fray.

“I’m fine! I just overcooked the meat!” Eggman’s voice snapped out from somewhere in the haze, the distinctive sound of an oven closing muffled by the ashy air.

“I can see that, sir!” Decoe piped up, overly cheery as his metal steps indicated him crossing through the kitchen. “But, Scorch is here, and maybe they don’t like burnt meat?”

Silence, at that.

Scorch looked over, sharing a bemused look with Bokkun. Perhaps Vaguely Threatening was Eggman’s default, and he just… wanted a friend?

Nah, he was just a piece of shit. No friends allowed.

“DECEO!!!” Eggman’s infuriated roar interrupted that thought. “YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME SOONER!!!”

“Here,” Bokkun flew over and picked up the leash, leading the way away from the kitchen. “We can hang out while Decoe sorts _that_ mess out.”

“Sounds good.”

And, with an angry Eggman left behind, Scorch and Bokkun claim one of the larger couches.

“… So,” Scorch spoke hesitantly; after all, it looked like the only other people they’d meet here would be other robots. “What’s up with the exploding TV’s?”

“Oh! Eggman does it because it bugs Sonic. It’s not a big explosion, after all.” Bokkun nods to itself, as if affirming its own statement. “Besides, if it truly bothered Sonic, he’d ask Eggman to cut it out.”

“… I suppose that’s fair, then.” They nod, crossing their legs and leaning back into the couch’s plush cushions. “What made y’all decide on TV’s, though?”

“Oh! Eggman wanted to be able to show things in his messages. A TV just made sense.”

It… kind of didn’t, since pictures would also work. Well, unless Eggman didn’t want to leave any of that kind of evidence behind. Guess that could also work.

“Anyways, you’re probably here right now so that Eggman can do one of his messages. To just, y’know, show that you’re here and stuff. Bug Sonic and all that jazz, since Sonic’s never been here before.”

Ah.

Yeah, uh.

How were they supposed to get out of here to safety eventually if Sonic didn’t know where they were? Or, you know, get any help At All?

They were now Officially Royally Fucked.

And, if they weren’t mistaken, that was… a charcoal-covered lump of meat that Eggman was carrying out of the kitchen, managing to look proud? Guess it was… Semi edible.

… Wonder what they’d have to do to convince Eggman to let them cook something Actually Edible To Eat, unless this wasn’t for them.

God, they hoped it wasn’t for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, everyone!!! I have a decent chunk of the next chapter already written, and HOPEFULLY it will come out soonish.
> 
> See you next time! :D


	11. Freaked Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> This chapter caused a change in the tags, so DO read those before reading this bad boy.

Scorch’s gaze flicked between Eggman and the camera, fidgeting as they did so.

Eggman had yelled at Decoe about removing the mouth guard, but had calmed after realizing he’d forgotten to give his robots a proper use manual for the remote. It seems as though he blamed himself for it, which they weren’t going to question. And then Eggman kicked out all the bots and set up a camera, one where Scorch could be seen in the background of what they assumed would be an Official Evil Eggman Rant.

Now, Eggman was telling them what to say, how to act, but they weren’t paying an ounce of attention. They wanted to pay attention, since, you know. Their survival depended on it, probably. But he’d said their reward for a job well done was his food, and, well…

It wasn’t food.

And, sure, the fact that the situation still didn’t feel real wasn’t helping matters. But, what were they gonna do about it? Not much, really.

“Are you even listening to me!?!” Eggman snapped, forcibly grabbing them by the cheeks. “It is very important that you get this right!”

“Oh, sure, totally.” They lied, pulling their face from his grip. “Eating charcoal is _totally_ a reward.”

Eggman blinked owlishly behind his goggles, temporary confusion only inflated by Scorch’s innocent look. After all, he most likely considered his fire fuel food.

One second.

Two.

As the weight of what Scorch said sunk in, their cool calm was replaced with unease as Eggman’s demeanor became less… Extravagant, exaggerated, as it had been. His movement was now smooth, precise. His eyes, once lively with an ounce of emotion, were cold. He stood to full height, took a step back to truly eye them toe to forehead.

Insulting his cooking was off the table, pun unintended.

“I see. Let me rephrase, then.” He tossed the remote in his hand, finger hovering over the only red button on it. “Do it properly, or I _will_ kill you.”

They swallowed thickly, nodding at the statement.

Insulting the one with the power to kill them was dumb.

They were dumb.

Present them should smack past them for doing that.

“Good. Now, all I need you to do is sit there and pretend I didn’t just threaten your life. Sound good?” He was back to his normal self, though the ice hadn’t left his eyes.

Maybe if they didn’t fuck it up, he wouldn’t kill them! That would be great!

“I, uh… Yeah, I got it.” They smiled stiffly; he nodded, and with that focused his attention on the camera, fiddling with it until a red light started to blink, signifying the start of a recording.

He recorded what they assumed was his basic insults to Sonic: generic insults to Sonic’s hero-ism, lack of skills, whatever. Their brain wouldn’t focus on what was being said, but they assumed that that’s what was said. Still, when Eggman panned the camera to them and talked about how Sonic would never see them alive again, their shoulders got tense.

Hell, everything got tense, but could things get tense if they were already would tighter than a spring?

Their vision began to tunnel as Eggman continued, their vision closing in on a single tiny pinprick of Eggman’s back.

Their fingers and toes began to tingle.

They felt their hand go to death grip the arm of the couch, and yet it didn’t feel like their arm. Or, rather, it did, but like it was delayed. Slow. Sluggish.

It reminded them, in an odd sort of way, of a marionette puppet. Like how the puppet was always slightly behind the hand guiding it.

It was not a pleasant feeling.

In the ether, in the space around them, they felt Eggman approach. Sure, he might have been talking to them; he might as well have been talking to a statue, though.

And, sure, he may or may not have sat next to them. They wouldn’t have noticed even if he had, since their vision tunneled even further. Their vision, no longer locked on Eggman’s back, instead fixed on the inky black depths of the camera lens. After all, when you look into the void, the void looks back.

A gentle touch to their shoulder draws them back to some semblance of reality; things feel less off, and their vision is mostly back. But it’s… Odd. Like the world is in greyscale, but metaphorically and not actually. Like they’re seeing the world through a filtered lens.

Their ears are full of static, but not exactly. It was like radio static, where they were almost but not quite tuned in; there were words, sounds, voices, but what they were saying or doing or singing was inaudible.

Eggman was, in fact, sitting next to them. He was trying to tell them something, but it wasn’t processing. Their brain was like a printer with the paper jammed in it, throwing error message after error message as the people in the office kept trying to print without fixing the jam. Sounds weren’t sounding properly, or their brain wasn’t processing them correctly; not even focusing was getting them much of anything.

He said something else, but their silence only served to concern him even more. He stood, evidently looking for something, as he chattered about… Could be anything, really.

He wandered off, and they stayed still.

This all felt… interesting. Like they were an outsider in their own head, an observer rather than an active participant.

Their head moved, slow as molasses, and looked over to their hand. Since when were they white-knuckle gripping the couch?

Staring at their hand felt weird, though. Like…

Well, it was as if they were observing something in the third person, rather than the first. Which was… weird, since they were still Them. Just, now it felt like they were looking at their hand over their own shoulder, could see the back of their head if they shifted their gaze.

It was… Odd.

Red stepped in front of them—it must be Eggman—and a warm… Something, wrapped around their shoulders. It was heavy, and thick. Smells weren’t computing, but they didn’t think it smelled like…

Well, whatever Eggman smelled like.

Their hands moved, slowly and carefully, grasping at the thing they’d been wrapped in and pulling it tight. It was… A Jacket? A blanket? A tarp?

A Thing, for sure.

Eggman sat down again, this time on the couch across from them. It looked like he was still talking to them, but all of their Brain was going towards figuring out what the texture was.

It was soft in their hands; they would even say it was fluffy, if the tingly-ness wasn’t cause to doubt their tactile functions. Was it a pelt? There was no zipper, and no buttons… So, not a jacket.

Eggman grabbed a book from a side table, flipping it open; they couldn’t make out the title, but it was thick, and blue. Would it have that New Book smell, or would it have that Old Book smell that all the beat-to-hell books in libraries had?

The tingliness began to fade, slowly but surely.

The blanket—they were sure it was a blanket, now—was just a particularly fluffy one. It was… kind of heavy, though. Was it just Big and Bunched Up, or was it weighted?

They weren’t sure how long they’d sat there, staring holes through Eggman and fiddling with the texture of the blanket, before they recognized the sound of speech as coherent words.

Their head ached, and their body felt tense and stiff. They could feel the start of a skull-stabbing migraine forming, but that wasn’t their primary concern.

It seems that Eggman had decided to… Read aloud to them, they guessed. It was some sort of technical so-and-so, most of it going over their head, but it sounded like it was computer things and not building things. They knew enough about coding-y things from their friends at home to know that “writing a for loop to kill the children” was a programming humor thing, and they’re pretty sure Eggman said that at some point.

If he wasn’t their kidnapper and also the man with their kill switch, they’d have thought it… kind, even if it wasn’t the most helpful thing.

Speaking of, what in the fresh hell did they just experience? It was… Well, they’ve had panic attacks before, but never this. This was New, and Not Fun.

“… Scorch?” Eggman’s concern—it was real concern, they were sure of it; no-one was truly evil enough to fake that—was palpable, not only in his tone but in the look he was giving them. “Are you… Alright, now?”

They opened their mouth to speak, then clicked it shut.

How were they supposed to answer that?

They’d insulted his food, probably ruined his video recording thingy, and then made him take care of them. So, did they owe him honesty?

Well, given that he was still the man with the kill switch, honesty was… probably what he wanted?

…

If they were wrong, it was going to be a Future Scorch Problem. Future Scorch, good luck.

“I… don’t know. I’m better now, I think?” Their voice is raspy, hoarse. Their throat burned, their eyes watering at the unexpected pain.

A cup was presented to them; since when was Eggman fast enough to get up and get them some water???

Still, they took it, carefully drinking its contents before sighing.

“… Did your recording turn out alright?” Eggman twitched, before a sheepish look overtook his face.

“Oh, that? I forgot to turn the camera on. We’ll record it tomorrow—properly, this time.” Something about that didn’t sound true, but he didn’t seem like he had any reason to lie.

Then again, there weren’t any mirrors in this place, let alone in that room, so maybe they’d looked particularly horrified during their… whatever it was that had overtaken them.

Then again, didn’t it have a blinking red light? Didn’t that usually mean that a camera was recording?

… Whatever the case, he could just pick and choose the shot he chose, so they wouldn’t ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who Would win: One Eggy Lad or one (1) dissociating human from another dimension?
> 
> This chapter was tough to write, but I'm glad it's out! Next Up: Eggboi figured out what to do with his charred mistake of a meat thing.
> 
> Let me know if you guys like this; chapter 12 is in the works and it looks like it'll be a bit of a doozy!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this!!!
> 
> I'm new to the sonic fandom, and I've been binging Sonic X and just had to make an OC. So, here they are!
> 
> Special thanks to the Sonic Server I'm on, since they're all super supportive and just 10/10 good beans. Love you guys!
> 
> Last but not least, I've made a YouTube playlist for this fic. Each chapter is a song title, and each title gets tossed on the list. I'll drop a link when there's more than one song on it xD


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